Ms. Dawson: A Narrative Fiction

I called the constituent, Ms Kathryn Chase, she said that is frustrated that nobody helps her to stop her siblings and her uncle stealing her mother's money and jewelry.

William watched Tabitha climb out of the hot tub. He took in a long, full look at her ass. She stood at the edge of the hot tub, wringing water from her ponytail. Droplets of water trickled down over Tabitha’s chest and stomach. William watched Tabitha’s body steam in the frigid air, the night’s icy fingers tickled her body, tightening her flesh and firming her nipples. She walked around the side of the hot tub and sat down next to William, dipping her feet into the water. William felt the flesh of her thigh rub against his shoulder.

The oldest residents of the hospital basement were the spiders and their webs, a clear sign that no one else's footsteps had echoed within these walls for years. Maya's eyes darted around in concern not wanting to get in trouble for the third time this month. She glanced towards Ash who held the torch shining it onto old files of older patients buried just outside the centre. The smell of rotting wood and metal hung in the air, a pile of blood covered sheets tossed in the corner.

As the thin black glove liners were pulled up as high as they could go, Elder Doty looked at me and motioned to the door. We stepped outside and were instantly greeted by a blast of artic air. I looked at Elder Doty again and he had the same look on his face as I did. We both were miserable and wanted to get this ride over as soon as possible.

“Mom, just relax. Everything is okay; it isn’t what it seems. I’ll explain from the very beginning.”

Jane and I grew up in grade school together. She was in the class ahead of me, but her and I were still friends. My father was into politics and involved himself in whatever he could with Jane's dad. Since our fathers were away quite often, we would spend a lot of time together. Since Jane didn't have a mother, my mother would often include Jane in whatever my sisters and I were doing. We would have great talks together talking about what we wanted to do when we grew up. Even though neither one of us knew what we wanted to do, Jane was someone that always had the biggest heart for helping people. She was always talking about the stories her father told her about President Lincoln, and even though she didn't know how, she knew she wanted to be someone to make change like he did.

I got the chance to interview a wonderful person, Ms. Breyonia Sterling. Breyonia resides here in Savannah, Ga and she is 18 years old. Her birthday is April 8th, which qualifies her to be an Aries. Breyonia Sterling is a wonderful person because she has an admirable personality, she is very success- driven, and has some unique favorites. I also learned while interviewing her that we have a lot in common.

He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air.

It took very little time to fill one of the tubs with water from the tank. It was late in the evening and the firebox had not been tended by the girl who was supposed to see to that so it had gone out. The water in the cistern was still plenty hot enough though. Ben stopped Jeb from filling the second tub, “I think one is good enough don’t you.” Jeb smiled at the statement. Ben got into the tub first and faced in the correct direction, his large cock already hard and sticking up out of water. Jeb knew exactly what it was that he had in

Throughout our lives, we all make sacrifices in order to achieve our goals or to help others achieve their goals. For some, this may mean sacrificing friendships or family time, or for others it may mean sacrificing money and other dreams which may also be of great importance to us. A person who has made many sacrifices in order to achieve their aspirations or goals is someone with strength, determination and masses of will-power, and it is someone who is not prepared to give up on their dream.

“Hey, terrorist,” a boy called out to me from across the classroom, drawing laughter from his friends. I pretended not to hear and stared into my book. It was a typical day in my life growing up as a first-generation American attending public school in a poor Bronx neighborhood. Being one of the few Indian kids there, I was relentlessly picked on. My school was desperately underfunded where teachers often spent their own money on supplies.

As part of the greater push at that grade level to introduce kids to a greater depth of books, Mrs. Oak created a game that would award points based on the number and length of books that you read, with a prize being given to the winner at the end of every month (usually candy). Now being the clever nine year old brat that I was, I decided to game the system by quickly flipping through a great number of small children’s books every day. While this did put me ahead on points, I was completely avoiding the entire point of the game. So to Mrs. Oak’s great credit, she decided to limit the number of books I could check out of the school’s library to three per week. With my lead in the literary scoreboard slipping away, I checked out a book that

So Kenny was really interested in the stain on the floor up in the room beside his so when he heard the sound coming from the room

When my mom married my step-dad, Jon, in 2009, I was only eight. I had to move and I was getting a whole new family that I had never even met before, so of course I was scared. I met Mabel Hickman a little while after the wedding. She was a family friend that my step-dad had grown up with. Mabel was the nicest person I had met in my life and she made me feel very welcome. She was born on December 25, 1923 in South Bend, Indiana. She met her husband, Marvin, at Fort Custer when she was in her late teens. They got married not too long after meeting each other on October 31, 1940 when Mabel was only 17. Unfortunately, Mabel died last year when she got sick. Mabel Hickman is my hero because she never stopped being nice to people, even though she went through a lot or even if the person didn’t deserve her kindness. Not only was the nicest person I had ever met, but she was amazingly talented.

Everyone defines high school as the base of your career, were magnificent teachers providing knowledge to help you exceed in life. But tell me how are we supposed to exceed while having teachers who does not provide enough information for my understanding? My senior year of high school I was placed in a math class with an instructor who goes under the name if Mrs. Power, but rather known as Mrs. Pointless. "Ok class everyone quiet!” are the exact words Mrs. Powers would say before starting class. She made class dull and pointless. By far she is the worst teacher I have had. She had little knowledge of what she was teaching in class, had out dated policies and lastly was extremely rude.